Everlasting Fame
by Steph Malfoy
Summary: Oneshot.'It is a lovely thing to live with great courage, and to die leaving an everlasting fame. The world would never forget Hephaestion.' Alexander grieves after loosing Hephaestion in Ecbatana.


**Authors Note—**

Hey, guys! I know I've been awhile and I SHOULD be updating 'Fall of Troy'… BUT I was watching Alexander (the theatrical version, cuz I love that little part in the balcony scene where Hephaestion says "you still hold your head cocked…" yeah, that part) and Hephaestion death scene, along with making me cry, inspired me. So here I am, writing a quick little oneshot about Hephaestion's death. It's kind of movie verse since, by most accounts, Alexander was at athletic games when Hephaestion died. I'm using some lines from the movie and expanding on one particular one that was only in the theatrical version. And I've been reading a lot about Alexander recently (because my room can hold anymore books…) and I think that it is so amazing that Alexander put out sacred temple fires during Hephaestion's funeral—those fires are only put out at the Great Kings death. You can't honestly, even if you hate Hephaestion—shakes fist at anyone who even THINKS that—think that he was only a "bed mate" for Alexander after that. Seriously. But I think the movie sucked when it came to Hephaestion's death. He dies and then that's the last of him. How hard would it have been to cut Alexander's hair??? God knows he needed it… Anyways, interrupting my rant…

Review!

Euros are so much cooler then dollars,

Steph

**Disclaimer: **You love to hate history… especially when it owns Hephaestion, Cassander and Alexander… how unfair is that?

**Texts citied: **'The _Illiad'_ by Homer, translated by Robert Fagles

**Date: **spring of 324 B.C.

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**Everlasting Fame**

_Ecbatana: spring of 324 B.C._

I had always loved athletic games. Dearly so. Just as much as the arts and literature. To be well versed and tasteful was an honorable thing. As a boy, I enjoyed to sing and play the lyre. Until one day Philip scorned me publicly for singing so well. I have never competed in the games, though. I have always feared that I would be given the race, given the win, because I was king, or prince. Perhaps, to some people, a win is a win no matter what way it comes to you. I choose to work for and deserve _my_ wins.

Athletic contests for boys have always brought joy to my heart. So often, as I sat in the crowded stadium, presiding over the contests, I could almost imagine that I was a young boy again and that the boys in the ring were my friends. How little we had to worry for at that age. How far away Persia and death were. But now I have Persia and I have seen death in every corner of my eyes. The gods had spared me so far, and not taken any of my dearest Companions from me.

I wish we were boys now. To have no worries, no fears. To sit in the groves of Mieza one last time, just talking with Hephaestion. Such a world seems as distant as a dream now. Almost there, but just out of grasp. Just a wisp in a fading shadow.

I would never sit in another athletic games again. Ruined they are for me now, no longer to hold any appeal in thoughts of battling against kings and gods and mythical heroes and monsters that the mind can so clearly imagine.

Hephaestion had fallen ill a week earlier. But he seemed to be mending. I watched him, as the pain faded and dulled, as the sweat dried from his brow, as his muscles relaxed, as his eyes cleared. Just this morning I had come to see him sitting, propped up by pillows. He had ordered a full meal of chicken and wine and told me that I should go to the games. And so, with a light heart and the superior feeling of being invincible I went. Hephaestion was well. My Patroclus was still with his Achilles.

No more then an hour could have passed and the games had just started. Complaints rose from watchers below me as a boy pushed through them. I knew then, but I wouldn't accept it. The boy continued to rise towards me. He finally stopped before me, his face flushed and his slim chest heaving. "Sire," he said through gasps. I rose to my feet, my face pale. "It is the General Hephaestion, he is—"

I stopped the boy short of my report. The stairs had filled up with spectators, spectators who were watching me and the games at the same time. I left the messenger boy mid sentence and pushed through the people before they could move for me. My mind was fogged as I ran to Hephaestion's rooms. I heard my name called behind me as some who had been near me in the stadium raced behind me. Perdiccas, Leonnatus, Ptolemy.

When I reached his rooms the useless physician Glaucias was standing uselessly by the wall, wringing his hands together. I pushed him away. I hesitated when I saw Hephaestion. How short a time ago I had seen him up, with some amount of light restored to his face. And now… he was on his back once more with the covers pulled over his body. His face shone with sweat and his eyes were clouded. His body shook as his hands clenched the blankets. The room was dim and hot and smelled like sickness.

My breath stuck in my throat as I addressed Glaucias without taking my eyes from Hephaestion. He hardly seemed to know I was here. "Just this morning he was…" the breath I had managed to acquire left my chest and I could make out no more words. "How can this be?" the words were no more then a breath.

Glaucias's hands flitted around his neck and with the edge of his white chiton. His face and neck had flushed red. "I wouldn't tax yourself, your majesty. A few nights rest should do it," his voice was frazzled. "With the régime of care I have laid out—"

I could take no more of the doctor and banished him and all others from the room. My heart drummed wildly in my chest as I knelt by Hephaestion. I put a hand on his fevered forehead and he turned to look at me. His eyes were swollen and bloodshot but the blue of his eyes shone through tears they held. One escaped from the corner of his eye. His face was flushed beneath the pallor of it and the scar on his cheek and above his left brow were white in contrast. His chapped lips parted slightly and he attempted a smile. He could never worry about himself. It was always someone else. Always me.

"I feel better," he said to me. His voice shook and barely masked the pain I could see in his cerulean eyes. "Soon I will be up."

"We leave for Arabia in the spring," I said, smoothing back his hair. "I can't leave without you."

"Arabia," he whispered the name as though it were a dream just out of reach. I smiled as something sparked in his eyes. "You used to dress me up like a sheik and wave your wooden swords…" he looked away from me then. His lips trembled and I knew he was crying.

I put my hands on either side of his face and turned him back to look at me. "You were the only one that never let me win," I said ardently. "The only one who's ever been honest with me." The tears that had long ago filled my eyes now burned at them and clouded me vision. I let some of them fall just so I could see Hephaestion again. "You saved me from my self… please don't leave me, Hephaestion," I begged him in a shaking voice. Even now, as he lay dying, all I could do is demand something more from him.

Hephaestion reached a hand up slowly and placed it on my cheek. The palm was clammy and trembled against my skin but to feel his skin on mine was the greatest gift I could have been granted. His hand slipped down to mine and squeezed my fingers. "My Alexander," he breathed even as he body shuddered and his face grew troubled. And even then he smiled at me. The tears fell faster from my eyes now and streaked down my face.

The convulsion passed through his body and he lay still for a moment. I placed a hand on his chest. His heart beat beneath my palm. It was slow and weak but it still beat.

"I am sorry, Alexander," he said once he had gained back his breath.

My eyes moved wildly across his face. "What do you mean?"

"You should not have to… s-see me like this," he whispered.

"No," I said, even to my ears the sound was too loud in the oppressive heat of the room. I lowered my voice again, fearful that the smallest noise would break the fragile room and its fragile tenant who would always keep some amount of his pride. "You are going to be _fine_. Soon you will be up, you said it yourself. We will go to Arabia in the spring, you by my side as always. And then we move in on Carthage and Sicily and… Rome. And in ten years Babylon will be the center of the world… cultures will mix and thrive together as one. And we will have made it so, Hephaestion. You and me. Together at the front of this great army. You can not leave me!" I took a shaky breath and ran my hand over his forehead. I let my fingers glide down the side of his face to his neck. "_Please_ don't leave me, Hephaestion."

Hephaestion smiled at me once more. Through all the pain and grief surrounding him he smiled at me. But then the smile faded, leaving no traces of its whereabouts through the seriousness and thought on Hephaestion's dear face.

"What is it?" I whispered, my voice catching in my throat.

He silent for some time before speaking. "I remember the young man who wanted to be Achilles, and then _out did him_." He grabbed my hand and his words were fierce and strong.

"And you Patroclus," I said desperately. "But what happened next? That was the myth only young men believed," my voice shook more on every word after the previous.

"But what a _beau_tiful myth it was," Hephaestion said, desperately trying, I could see, to restore my faith in that simple little story that we had worshipped together so. His brows knitted together in worry and I smoothed my hand over them, wishing that he would relax.

"Oh we reach and fall. Oh, Hephaestion," I sobbed, loosing all control I had. He had to stay. His time on Earth wasn't done yet. His time with _me_ wasn't done yet.

Hephaestion shook once more with another contraction of pain rippled through his abdomen and chest. He gasped and my hand flew to his chest to reassure myself that he was still with me.

"I worry for you without me," he said, his voice light of breath. He gripped my hand and if there was pain there I did not feel it.

I sobbed aloud for a moment before I rose from my chair. I pressed both of hands to Hephaestion's chest, never letting go of the one I held. I bent my head and pressed my forehead against our clasped hands. "I am nothing without you," I said frantically as I rose. "Come, Hephaestion, fight. _Fight_." I gazed at him for a long time. "We will die together… it's our _destiny_." I continued to quickly break apart. It was hard for me to talk now.

"Ah," Hephaestion said, softer then the breeze that ruffled the grass on the great, vast plains we had traveled together with an army, a mobile empire, at our backs. "How quickly you change your mind, Alexander." I stared at him, waiting for him to catch his breath. "I thought our destiny was that of Achilles and Patroclus."

"No," I said. "I don't _want_ that."

"But it _is_," Hephaestion insisted. A ghost of a smile flitted across his face and this one seemed more genuine then the others he had forced for my benefit. "It is the destiny that _we_ have chosen _together_. Achilles mustn't have wanted the destiny his great immortal mother spoke of when Patroclus died. But he was still honorable and honored his beloved Patroclus in the grandest way possible. Achilles shed his tears and mourned in the way that only the best of men can do. Honor me the same, great Achilles. That is all I want."

My chest constricted around my heart as I'd seen snakes do to mice.

"'But now, Patroclus," I whispered from memory as I lay down beside my dear friend. I rested my head upon his left breast, the faint beat of his heart rang in my head, soft but steady as a horses hooves on stone, "since I will follow you underneath the ground, I shall not bury you, no, not till I drag back here the gear and head of Hector, who slaughtered you, my friend, greathearted friend… Here in front of your flaming pyre I'll cut the throats of a dozen sons of troy in all their shinning glory, venting my rage on them for your destructions! Till then you lie as you are besides my beaked ships and round you the Trojan women and deep-breasted Dardans will mourn you day and night, weeping burning tears, women we fought to win—strong hands and heavy lance—whenever we sacked rich cities held by mortal men.'"

Hephaestion smiled. "Yes, my Achilles, my Alexander. It is our destiny. 'At last the gods have called me down to death… No way to escape it now. This, this was their pleasure after all, sealed long ago—… so now I meet my doom. Well let me die—but not without glory… that even men to come will hear of down the years!'"

"But that was Hector!" I wailed in sorrow and misery. "And you Patroclus. So much finer then Hector."

"We are all heroes in our own way, Alexander. All of us heroes… sent to this Earth to achieve something. I have fought with you, Alexander, and have gained your love as my reward. No sweeter a thing could have been given to me in this life…"

Hephaestion's eyes began to droop close and the beat in my head slowed. I lifted my head and stared into his eyes. He had once, long ago on the balcony of Babylon, said to me that I had the most amazing eyes. How horribly wrong he had been. Hephaestion's eyes were a work of art worthy of his name. I could always see so much in those cerulean kaleidoscopes. And now the sight of the light in them dimming tortured me more then any other.

His head tilted to the side and I clutched at it in my hands so I could look into his eyes still. "The gods gifted you to me, Hephaestion. It is I that is not worthy of the love you gave to me. Just like the greatest gift they gave you to me and now they take you away before I am done with you!"

"'Oh give me your hand—,'" Hephaestion said softly, his eyes closing. I watched with horror and listened with fascination. "' I beg you with my tears! Never, never again shall I return from Hades… Never again will you and I, alive and breathing, huddle side-by-side, apart from loyal comrades, making plans together—never… grim death, that death assigned from the day that I was born has spread its hateful jaws to take me down. And you too, your fate awaits you too, godlike as you are, Achilles—A last request—grant it, please. Never bury my bones apart from yours, Achilles, let them lie together… just as we grew up together in your house…'"

Trees poured in rivers down my face as the beat in my ear slowly faded into silence and one last breath sighed from his chapped lips. "Hephaestion?" I stared at him with almost childlike innocence. He looked as though he were sleeping… as peaceful as a babe.

"Hephaestion?" I said again, shaking his shoulders. "You can not leave me. I'm not ready to loose you, Hephaestion! Our sons will be kinsmen and play together as we once did… Hephaestion?" He was still, never to move again. I collapsed across his chest as violent sobs racked through me body. A horrible wailing noise filled the room and I soon realized that it was me.

The doors burst open and a haze of people entered. Their shapes meant nothing to me as I glared through my tears at them.

"Where is this doctor?" I roared. A figure was pushed towards the bed and I assumed it to be Glaucias.

"I can't explain this, you majesty!" he wailed. "It's not possible! I swear by Apollo—"

"Execute him!" I cried in the fury and hatred that burned through my grief stricken heart. "Take him out now and execute him!" The physician wailed in his own sorrow and dismay. But Achilles would avenge Patroclus!

I felt hands on me, trying to pull me away from my beloved Hephaestion. I lashed out at the man, Ptolemy, who dared touch me. "Liars! Liars!" I screamed, positioning myself in a defensive position over Hephaestion with my arms and legs on different sides of his body. "You're all liars!" I cried at the people filling the room. "You all hated him! You all envied him! All of you! Get out!" They didn't move. "Get out now!" They left then, closing doors behind them.

I collapsed onto Hephaestion once more. I roughly grabbed his face in my hands and pressed my cheek there. I savored in the warmth that was still on him. I cried.

For the next two days and nights I did not move myself from Hephaestion's side. All those sent to the rooms were yelled at. Soon, no one at all came.

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From time to time I slept roughly. It was a sleep filled with fitful dreams. I dreamed of Homer's great heroes…

_The lovely immortal goddess Thetis, mother of Achilles looked at me with sorrow in her wide eyes and written across her small face as I, as Achilles, spoke to her…_

"' _O dear mother, true! All those burning desires Olympian Zeus has brought to pass for me—but what joy to me now? My dear comrade's dead—Patroclus—the man I loved beyond all other comrades, loved as my own life—I've lost him… I wish you'd lingered deep with the deathless sea-nymphs, lived at ease, and Peleus carried home a mortal bride. But now, as it is, sorrows, unending sorrow much surge within your heart as well—for your own son's death. Never again will you embrace him striding home. My spirit rebels—I've lost the will to live, to take my stand in the world of men—unless, before all else, Hector's battered down by my spear and ghasps away his life, the blood-price for Patroclus, Menoetius' gallant son he's killed and stripped!'"_

_Tears streamed down poor Thetis's cheeks. She warned me: "'You're doomed to live a short life, my son, from all you say! For hard on the heels of Hector's death your death must come at once—"_

"'_Then let me die at once!'" I shouted to churning skies. Utter despair racked through me. "Since it was not my fate to save my dearest comrade from his death! Look, a world away from his fatherland he's perished, lacking me, my fighting strength, to defend him. But now, since I shall not return to my fatherland… nor did I bring one ray of hope to my Patroclus, nor to the rest of all my steadfast comrades, countless ranks struck down by mighty Hector—No, no, here I sit by the ships… a useless, dead weight on the good green earth…'"_

For days I lay in mourning. When I was finally dragged from Hephaestion's body I haunted my own rooms, refusing to see anyone. What did Achilles do without his Patroclus? Nothing could tender my blackened heart now.

I worried Bagoas when I didn't eat and cried like a babe separated from his mother. The shock had worn off now. Just when I thought there were no more tears to be shed, they came anew.

Hephaestion… he was my best friend since boyhood. He had been my lover, yes, but I loved him in more ways then that. Many would say that he had only advanced to be my second in command because he was my bed mate. But what do they know? Hephaestion had reached his rank purely on merit. I loved him, but I do not play favorites within the army. Talented in the ways of war was he, but even more in other areas. He was a builder, a planner, an ambassador. His value to the empire had nothing to do with me. He was my confidant, the only one who I could count on to tell me the truth. I wasn't always grateful but he was always there. The love I felt for him surpassed anything sexual or physical. He was a great man. Truly the greatest.

I fell asleep on that fourth night with a heavy heart. On this night Hephaestion came to me in my dreams, just as Patroclus came to Achilles. At first it was only his voice that came to me, speaking the very words that Patroclus spoke to Achilles…

"'_Sleeping, Achilles?'"_

_I whipped my head around. Finally I could see him. He looked so fine. A perfect likeness of the great man himself. There was no sign of sickness about him or the fine robes he wore. His hair fell down his back and his eyes were bright, they shown from an invisible light. _

_My heart caught in my throat. "Hephaestion? 'Why have you returned to me here, dear brother, friend?'"_

"'_You've forgotten me, my friend,'" the ghost said in a lyrical voice as a small smile graced his lips. "'You never neglected me in life, only now in death.'"_

"_No!" I cried. "I will never forget you!"_

"'_Bury me, quickly—let me pass the Gates of Hades. They hold me off at a distance, all the souls, the shades of the burnt-out, breathless dead, never to let me cross the river, mingle with them… They leave me to wander up and down, abandoned, lost at the House of Death with the all-embracing gates. Oh give me your hand—I beg you with my tears!'"_

_I stared. I knew what Hephaestion was asking of me, it was the same thing Patroclus had asked of Achilles. But I didn't know what to say. I wanted to run to him, to hold him in me arms, feel his heart beneath mine and his hair on my cheek. He spoke before I could move._

"_You promised me once, Alexander, that you would honor my body. Burn it for me, please. Put me to rest so that you can go on with your life, Great King."_

"_I will follow you down to the House of Death, as I promised you once, long ago," I said. _

"_Ah, 'your fate awaits you too, godlike as you are, Achilles,"" Hephaestion said softly. "The gods have already sealed your fate long ago, just as they did with mine. But your time has not come yet. Honor me and my body, Alexander."_

"'_Why tell me of all that I must do?'" I asked. "'I'll do it all. I will obey you, your demands.'"_

"_That is all I could ask of you, my Alexander."_

"'_Oh come closer!'" I cried, feeling what great Achilles must have felt well up in my breast. "'Throw our arms around each other, just for a moment—take some joy in the tears that numb the heart!'"_

_I moved forward towards Hephaestion, my arms stretched out towards him. He smiled sadly and then he was gone. Vanished. Just like Patroclus. And I knew I would see him again only in the House of Death. I wailed. _

I woke sobbing as the first light of dawn spread across the horizon. I clutched the pillow underneath my head. Bagoas was besides me, a comforting hand placed timidly on my shoulder.

"Al'iskander. Al'iskander?" he said over and over.

I knew what I had to do. I would honor Hephaestion's wishes.

I rose from my bed and pulled a dagger from a table. I unsheathed it and held it to my face, taking a fistful of hair in my hand.

"Iskander!" Bagoas cried and ran to my side.

I hacked away at my long hair, letting it fall to the floor. Achilles had sheared his hair for Patroclus and I would do the same for Hephaestion, though it was tradition to tie only a lock in a wreath to place on the pyre.

Once he was certain that I was not trying to kill myself, Bagoas fussed around me.

"Let me do it for you," he insisted trying to take the blade from my hands. "I will do it how you want."

"No," I said and he stopped.

My hair was soon finished. The cut was rough but I was satisfied. I dressed in a set of black robes before leaving my chambers. The sun had risen and I blinked against the brightness of it. The halls feel silent as I swept past.

I first went to the royal stables and ordered the tails and manes of every horse to be cut.

I was on my way to complete my next task when I passed a room where laughter and music drifted out from. Anger boiled in my chest and I flung the doors open. The room immediately fell silent.

"No music!" I said. "There will be no music until Hephaestion's funeral has passed."

The men were silent. One disengaged himself from the rest of the group and ran to my side. "Alexander!" the secretary Eumenes cried. "May I be the first to say how truly sorry I am. Hephaestion was a great general and someone we are all proud to say we followed. We will all mourn his lose most greatly."

I silenced him with a thrust of my hand. I would deal with those who had fought with Hepahestion later.

"No music," I said once more before leaving the room.

Ptolemy was soon by my side. "Alexander," he said. "It is good to see—"

"Find me the great artist Deinocrates," I said. Ptolemy nodded. "Tell him that I am intrusting him with the building of Hephaestion's funeral pyre. Tell him that it must be grand, befitting of a god and that he should spare no expense. I want art and riches. Nothing is too much."

"Yes, Alexander," Ptolemy said after a moment. I was silent and he moved to walk away.

I stopped him. "Give the order to have the sacred temple fires here and in Babylon extinguished," I said.

"But, Alexander," Ptolemy said, "the right to put out those fires is reserved for the Great Kings death."

"Yes," I said, smiling. "So it is. Do it now," I snapped when he did not move.

"Of course, Alexander."

I watched as Ptolemy walked away.

It is a lovely thing to live with great courage, and to die leaving an everlasting fame. The world would never forget Hephaestion.

**a/n:** so the end stinks but my mom's like throwing things at me because I still have to pack and I'm leaving tomorrow! I must have just watched Hephaestion die fifty times, I don't think I've ever cried so much. It just keeps getting you. Anyways, hope you enjoyed it and I'll update FOT a couple days after August 9! Review! Have a good summer!! -Steph


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